


Sleepless in September

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: M/M, and i don't know how to write anything else apparently, it's fluff ofc bc i'm a SAP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 07:51:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12384006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: His lover hums softly. As Harry watches the rain fall steadily outside, Julian is content to watch him. His arms are crossed over his chest to ward off the nighttime chill, and he’s comfortably warm where their shoulders are pressed together. A flicker of lightning paints his features white for a moment. Ten seconds until thunder peals; the storm is moving out, now.





	Sleepless in September

**Author's Note:**

> I read Still by mithrel and was inspired. This was one of the few times that I actually wished it _was_ raining…
> 
> Look who finally finished this, five thousand years after they said they would (technically three months minus one day)

“You should be asleep.”

At the sound of the soft voice, Julian startles a little, blinking out of the peaceful trance into which the pattering of the rain against the window and the gentle rumbling of thunder overhead had lulled him. He turns to see his lover standing in the doorway behind him, bleary and soft around the edges, and a little cross like he gets when he’s woken up too early.

Harry’s right, of course; he has a long day tomorrow— _today, technically_ , Julian mentally corrects—at the hospital, and he could definitely use all the sleep he can get, but… “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Too much thunder,” Harry agrees, nodding to himself as he moves to join him in front of the rain-spotted window. Then, before Julian can refute it: “That better not be coffee, mister,” he scolds upon seeing the mug in Julian’s hands. He takes a sniff of its contents, then straightens, mollified. “Hot chocolate. I didn’t know we had any.”

“Well, we don’t drink it in summer. Usually,” he says. “But actually, it’s not. Too much thunder, that is. Or well, maybe, I don’t know. But I’ve always found rainstorms soothing.”

His lover hums softly. As Harry watches the rain fall steadily outside, Julian is content to watch him. His arms are crossed over his chest to ward off the nighttime chill, and he’s comfortably warm where their shoulders are pressed together. A flicker of lightning paints his features white for a moment. Ten seconds until thunder peals; the storm is moving out, now.

“All that’s missing now is a fire.”

“A fire?” Harry queries.

He hums, turning his gaze out past the rain-streaked glass, past the charcoal grey of the midnight storm. “My childhood home had a fireplace—a rarity, I know, but my parents could be a bit old-fashioned like that. I remember, whenever it stormed, I’d curl up in my favorite chair by the fire with Kukalaka and a cup of hot cocoa, and just listen to the rain and forget everything else.”

“So I’m a teddy bear?” Harry says, arching an eyebrow and glancing over at him.

Julian cracks a grin and raises his brows in return, slinging an arm around his lover’s waist and drawing them flush. “Are you not?”

Harry just gives a small smile in answer, soft with sleep, and rests his head on Julian’s shoulder. Julian presses a kiss to his temple, and they stand there like that for a while, Julian absently rubbing slow circles over his lover’s hip with his thumb, and watch the rain. It isn’t long before he feels Harry’s breathing start to even out.

“Hey,” he says gently, nudging him toward consciousness. “You should get back to bed.”

“I will when you do,” he mumbles, eyes still closed and brows furrowed slightly at the disruption.

The corner of Julian’s lips tugs up into a small smile, exasperated but fond, and so, so full of love for this man in his arms, and he leans in to press a short kiss to his lips. “I’ll be right there,” he assures him.

Harry takes a deep, slow breath before reluctantly opening his eyes. “’lright,” he says, slipping out of Julian’s embrace. “Don’t be too long.”

Julian watches him until he disappears around the corner into the hallway, then finishes off the rest of his hot chocolate and pads into the kitchen. He sets the mug down in the sink and fills it with water so that it’s ready to wash in the morning.

When he returns to the bedroom, he thinks his lover has already fallen back asleep, but as he approaches, Harry cracks his eyes open, a drowsy smile tugging at his lips as he lifts back the corner of the covers for him. Julian slips into bed, settling in as Harry shifts closer, fitting perfectly against his chest, and the warmth of his lover in his arms and the distant sounds of the passing storm lull him into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Pff, yeah, “old-fashioned” is right; their fucking ableist views have no place in the twenty-fourth century, shouldn’t even have a place in the twenty-first century, but, well. Here we are. Mmmm not that this actually has anything to do with the fic (who knows if this is even an AU or not), I’m just really bitter toward his parents for what they did


End file.
